Bastila: Through my Eyes
by lkg218
Summary: pre-KOTOR - Bastila's Point of view, from her childhood to the events just before the attack on Endar Spire.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: This is currently a WIP – pre-KOTOR. I'm primarily focussing on Bastila's character and it is going to be written in first-person simply because I haven't seen too many of them around, though it is probably going to deviate from the games...and may or may not deviate from the Star Wars canon. I haven't decided yet.

Apologies for making it a short prologue – I shall try to avoid short chapters in the future/try to make regular updates.

**Prologue**

My eyes swept one last time over the Spartan furnishings of my quarters. A small room with a single bunk, a metal desk and a chair, there were very few signs that this place was ever used, except for a tiny device that was haphazardly balanced at the edge of the desk. Just as the device was about to lose in its struggle against gravity, I reached down and caught it between my fingers.

_My datapad_.

Once again, I wondered why I had left it here, this record of my life, of happy memories, and more recently, some painful ones. I should have stowed it away with the rest of my belongings that were currently being transported to the Endar Spire. Still, something held me back – a part of me wished to keep it close. Maybe the Force had willed it so.

Whatever the reason, I activated it and began reading the records of my life, up to this point. This always invoked bittersweet memories from me; and in my current state they were all the more potent. My father, my friends, and the Jedi who I came to call family were all in this device, hidden away from outsiders, a secret part of my heart, locked away as the Jedi teachings dictated. Here lived the imprint of my raw emotions that sometimes threatened to burst from within me. I felt a bitter smile spread across my mouth as I recited in my mind:

"_There is no emotion, there is peace._"

I glanced around once more, blinking away tears, and taking comfort in my sterile surroundings. I focused again on the datapad which now displayed a record of my life with my parents. Having nothing better to do, I began reading and so, reliving that part of my life.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: I'm just jumping back in time to Bastila's childhood (though she doesn't go with her father on hunts yet) – I shall continue the story in chronological order from here. I also took the liberty of giving Bastila's father a name and describing what Talravin is like since I didn't have anything to refer to...hopefully it turned out to be believable.

**Talravin Part I**

Talravin, my home world, was a densely populated planet. It was a comfortable place, but perhaps not the safest despite its deceptively welcoming atmosphere. Sentients of all races gathered in the various districts, bartering and trading in the crowded streets, and eking out an existence. Of course, that was not the only way to earn a keeping, but at the time, I was too young to know.

Like any other city, corruption and thievery were rife, especially in the lower districts where laws were only loosely enforced. The people of Talravin were always conscious of class distinction, and since my family was unfortunate enough to be living in the dilapidated Delradian District, we were still classified as 'lower class scum'. Because of that, we had little security, and so, it was a dangerous place for a young family.

People such as us were often exploited by the Hutts, being manipulated into borrowing large sums of money. If anyone was unable to repay these debts, the entire family would be sold into slavery. The only way to live a reasonably comfortable lift was to either become one of the Hutts' lackeys or to become a hunter. Maybe that was why Mother forced Father to become a hunter. I do see her reasoning in hindsight, but there still could have been better ways to earn credits.

Initially, my family didn't have the money to hunt anywhere outside of Talravin's Sewers, and there were slim pickings and high competition amongst the desperate. Nonetheless, father managed to bring home the credits on a weekly basis – just enough to eat, and some to put away for the future. Sometimes, he also brought home some trinkets that I could play with, though Mother was never pleased with this.

"Travis", my mother would say angrily, "You know better than to spoil the child! After all, you need to find a way to reclaim your ship – there is no need to waste the credits!"

"Relax, Helena, little Bastila needs some fun in her life, and just one toy won't have that great an impact on our debts", Father would always respond.

"But you know what Juba the Hutt is like! You know what he will do to us if we are even one credit under our payments! We might be killed, but what about Bastila? She's a poor defenceless girl – she could be sold into slavery- or worse!" she would begin to raise her voice, "We already have little enough with our furnishings scavenged from the streets, and our walls being ready to collapse around our ears, and you still wish to – to – indulge in this-"

"I will not let anything bad happen", Father would always reply stiffly, interrupting her; and that would be the end of the argument.

On one particular day, Father had come home exhausted from his latest hunt. As he entered through the door, he staggered slightly before collapsing onto the nearest couch – if 'couch' it could be called, so misshapen was its frame. I ran across the cracked and broken tiles with my usual greeting – a hug and a kiss while Mother hung back, her lips pressed into a thin line. Father gave me a weak grin and a hug and whispered into my ear.

"I have a little surprise for you – close your eyes and hold out your hands Bastila"

As I grinned and obeyed, I heard my mother walk towards my father though neither uttered a word. I felt my father place a cool object in the palm of my hand and I held my breath.

"Open your eyes, dear." He encouraged. Once again, I obeyed and looked down at the object in my hand. It was a necklace – the sort that the upper class snobs would strut around in. I squealed in delight and looked closely at it.

The necklace was of a simple design – a gemstone strung on a thin gold chain. This gemstone itself was held to the chain with thin gold filigree, expertly framing every facet in the crystal. It was elegant in its simplicity. Awed, I practically screamed,

"Thank you Father – thank you soo much!" I went to hug him again as he slipped the necklace over my head. Mother could no longer maintain her silence.

"Travis" she began, her anger obvious, "Where in the world did you find that?!"

Instantly, the atmosphere seemed to change, a cold dread passed over me.

"Bastila, give that to me!" she commanded, and I was too afraid to disobey.

"That's enough!" Father said loudly and snatched the necklace from Mother, making me whimper. My patents stared at each other for what seemed like an eternity – an unspoken war was underway. As I watched, I began to feel hot tears pouring down my cheeks.

"I'm sorry!" I bawled "I'll be a go-good g-girl – don't f-f-fight!" I stammered between my uncontrolled cries. Their reaction was immediate. Mother made her way to the other room, while Father knelt down and said gently,

"I'm sorry Bastila, Mommy and Daddy have to talk about grown-up problems. Here, take the necklace and wear it – why don't you show it off to your friends?" he dropped the jewel again about my neck and guided me to the doorway. I gave him a blubbering smile and nodded mutely.

As Father closed the rusty door, I moved away to the other side of the building where I would be able to remain unseen. Here, I could hear the sound of my parents shouting and I couldn't understand why my mother did as she did.

_Maybe she's jealous of you_. An unbidden thought entered my mind, but I refused to believe it at the time.

After the incident with the necklace, Father stopped giving me any more presents. I would be lying if I said that I wasn't hurt, but this was far better than watching my parents constantly shout at each other. Soon, life returned to its normal routine, though I rarely ventured out any more. Part of the reason was because of what happened the last time the children in the neighbourhood saw my father's gift.

As I was walking back to the front door of my home, three children had approached me: Derek, as well as the Twi'lek twins, Aimee and Sera. I knew them quite well and sometimes played with Aimee, but Derek was always unpleasant to deal with. Derek was a thickset lad who looked more like a slug than a human. He always liked to antagonise others if he didn't get his way. Consequently, although they disliked him, Aimee and Sera often followed in his wake – more to avoid his wrath than anything else. I had never been one to give him the satisfaction of bowing down to him, so when he saw me wearing the ornament, he eyed me with distain.

"Oi!" he called "What's a slum rat doing wearing such a fine chain?"

Father had always told me to be polite to others, no matter how rude they were. I know I found it difficult to maintain composure and rein in my anger but somehow I managed to answer politely enough.

"My father gave this to me as a present, but really, if you call me a 'slum rat' what are you? After all aren't you the same as me?" I couldn't resist saying that.

Derek looked too shocked to hear someone insult him, given his enormous bearing, and the two girls giggled nervously. I used that as my cue to run away while I could as I knew he would try to beat the necklace out of me if he could. No one insulted him and got away with it. In hindsight, this hierarchy amongst the children here really could be seen as a microcosm of the crime world in which we all lived – a world which I still live in.

Three years passed and things finally seemed to look up for our family. Father had finally managed to scavenge enough credits to buy a ship to get off this rock. Derek and his cronies too had left the Delradian District 'in search for better pastures'. I mostly stayed at home, while father went on his regular hunts, and mother stayed at home, making sure that father's hunts brought in enough credits. She was a harsh woman and often treated me coldly, and I grew to resent her altogether. All the same, she was my mother, and I loved her – at least I knew that she would never abandon me – or so I had thought.

* * *

A/N: Well, that's it for this chapter - I'll try to get to leaving the planet and more hunting adventures next time...hope you enjoyed it and thank you for reading - concrit is always welcome!


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: Another slow chapter – I promise, the next one will have more action..

**Talravin Part II**

It was dark.

Darker then the Talravin sewers father visited on his hunts - darker than the abyss that led to the dark side of the Force. It was also cold – far too cold for a child to survive long.

Blindly, I stumbled forward, as far as my tiny legs could carry me, heedless of the icy spines that shot through my feet.

_Where are they?!_ I thought desperately.

As if on cue, I heard soft footsteps behind me. I stifled a scream and pressed onward.

_I can't let them find me._

I stumbled and fell. I wanted to cry, but could not. After all, I had to escape – my parents were waiting for me.

_Just a little more,_ I thought as I struggled to stand again, but my legs failed to obey me.

The footsteps were coming closer, and I heard an inhuman voice directly behind me.

A glimpse of a crimson and black mask

I could no longer maintain my self control and screamed in fear.

It was too late – they had caught me. I tried to struggle, but soon, all I knew was a sharp pain, and then nothingness. It was far too late.

xx

I woke with a scream – my disoriented eyes roving wildly across my surroundings. My heart hammered in panic and fear, and it was all I could do to prevent me from screaming again.

I sensed, rather than heard people moving around me and I threw my hands and legs wildly in a reckless attempt to prevent _them_ from putting their hands on me.

"Shhhh. Bastila, it's OK. Calm down." I heard a familiar voice whisper gently. Warm arms wrapped me up in a tight embrace, and I could feel my sanity and my consciousness returning.

As I shook away the last cobwebs of my dreams, I looked around once again.

It was dark – but not as dark as my dreams. Before me, shadows, and soft light spilled in a regular pattern from the roughly barricaded window to my right. Rows of chipped and salvaged duracrete lined the far wall forming a rough shelf, upon which was a large Rancor tooth.

_Father's trophy_

Father and his last hunting party had encountered an injured Rancor two weeks ago. While it could not attack them, they all knew that this creature was dangerous if left unchecked. This was reason enough for the party to lay a trap and wait for the ponderous giant to find its next meal – this would also lead to some earned credits after all. According to Father, a series of mines had done the trick, but that's all he had told me.

I breathed a sigh of relief as I became aware that I was at home, and that it was father who was still hugging me. As he observed my apparent calm, he let me go and I numbly sat back on my rough mattress. Already, I was beginning to forget the details of my dream – all I was left was with a cold, dreadful feeling.

"You have been having that dream again," my father spoke gently.

"This is the fifth time in the past week." Mother said softly as she got up. "Travis, we should consult someone about this – it is worrying me!"

I dimly registered my father sighing and mutter a resigned response as I fell back to bed.

xx

The recurring dreams continued, and this was beginning to become a daily pattern.

I would have the dream and wake up screaming. Father would comfort me till I slept again, and Mother would do the same if she could. They would talk for a while until I fell asleep again.

This continued over the days. The days turned to weeks, and soon, both my parents were looking quite exhausted. I looked much the same, but for the most part, I actually felt quite _normal_ during my waking hours.

Some more weeks passed and soon, my dreams started to become more infrequent, and this only began to happen once every two or so weeks. The pinched expression seemed to leave my parents – and father began to recover with ease. Mother, on the other hand, still looked drained, and often avoided my eyes when she spoke to me. That was fine; _I was used to it now_.

xx

Another year passed, and father was coming closer and closer to paying off his debts, thus reclaiming his ship. My dreams still occurred, albeit infrequently, but I rarely remembered them. We were all eagerly anticipating the following month, when I would turn six, and we would finally be able to leave Talravin.

"Only four hundred credits until we are free my love" I had overheard Father's excited whisper as he spoke to Mother.

We would soon be free of this place – we would seek a more prosperous planet, and we would live happy, healthy lives, free of the constant fear and suspicion that we now faced.

As the days trickled by, I constantly wished that there was something else to occupy my mind, however, since the district was dangerous for a child my age, and I rarely ever ventured out. In the meantime, mother set me to various small tasks such as arranging the small sum of father's trophies and helping pack up our meagre possessions, though I suspected that she did this to keep _herself_ from doing it. All the same, I didn't mind.

xx

The long awaited day had finally arrived. Father had come bursting in with a joyous whoop, indicating that this was indeed true. Mother gave a rare smile and I couldn't help but be infected by the jovial atmosphere. Today, Father could finally reclaim his ship, and tomorrow, we would leave Talravin, on the day that I would finally grow to the age of six.

Father promised to show me the ship tomorrow, but the paperwork needed to be done, and so, since we had little else to do, Mother and I joined Father on his trip to the Torren District, where the ship was now held. As a family, we roved through the district and arrived at the Torren port, far south of where we lived. While not the richest part of the city-planet by a long stretch, it was a world of luxury for us.

Although this district was under cover, the roof was layered with a holo-screen that depicted the orange glow of the fading sun. I think that was the first time I had beheld such a sight, and I was in awe. The golden light made its way to the ground, painting every living being with a bright, _cheerful_ visage; the despairing, hopeless atmosphere of the Delradian District was non-existent here.

The well-maintained environment was also evidence of the class difference. Neglected piles of duracrete were nowhere to be seen, replaced with smooth permacrete walkways, and spotless metal railways. Instead of thugs, one would encounter decent folk, and bounty hunts were not as common here as they were closer to our home. Windows were made up of glass, and not a hollow pane was to be found. Occasional guards also patrolled the area, keeping crime to a minimum. This was a world not dominated by the underground, a world with no obvious ties to the Exchange, a world that spoke peace and prosperity.

Father made his way to the Port Station now, with us in tow. At the entrance, a guard in a grey uniform greeted us.

"Hello, Mr. Shan, we had been expecting your arrival" the uniformed man intoned formally. Despite his formidable stature, a hint of a smile crinkled his face. Father had no reservations – a wide grin was plastered across his face.

"Well, well, Kavim" he laughed "you haven't changed one bit – except you just got older and fatter". Indeed, the man had a slight paunch and peppered hair, and I couldn't help but giggle.

Kavim appeared a little offended, surprised and amused all at the same time. "Ah well, Travis, a crazy old hunter like you could never understand the dignity needed to carry a position such as mine!" he chortled. He clapped father on the back "How are you yourself old man? And you young lady?" he asked me.

Shyly, I replied, "I'm fine, thank you, sir."

He blinked in surprise, and then laughed in good humour. "Well, well, Travis, you taught her manners! I wish there were more slum rats like you, old man!"

Mother had been listening to the conversation with pursed lips and I saw her flinch visibly at that. Despite myself, I couldn't help but retort "Father is a good, kind person, and is a better person than you – you rude old soldier!"

The soldier blinked in surprise again, and stifled some laughter, "Well, now, now, miss – I meant no harm. Ignore this old gasbag – he makes too much noise!" his eyes danced.

I turned my head and pouted, causing another gale of merry laughter. Before I had a chance to speak, Father put his hand on my shoulder, which was enough to silence me. The guard then bent down so that I was face to face with him. I glared at him and he replied mockingly "She is a real hot-head, you know that Travis? Just like you used to be before- ".

I never heard the rest of the sentence as he was interrupted by Father. "Alright, alright Travis, don't give me that look!" the guard said, surprised. Then he looked at me again. "Well, young lady, as an apology, I have a little something to give you." He fished for something in his pocket. As he retrieved it, I looked at father questioningly, but he nodded, relaxed.

Soon enough, the guard presented me with his closed fist, the mysterious object hidden in his hand.

Unable to stifle my curiosity, I asked, "What is it?" as I cupped my small hands to receive the present.

The guard grinned and opened his palm, the gift dropping into my hands. I looked at it and frowned.

"It's a patch of cloth!" I stated, feeling let down.

Father laughed and said, "Look closely – It is a badge of honour for a soldier in the Republic. It represents strength, wisdom, determination and above all, a love for life and all creation!"

I looked at it and noticed the faded design of two feathers surrounding an eagle and a lion. Even in its state, it gave an impression of a dignity. Its owner must have been a great person.

Answering my unspoken question, the guard stated, "That was your father's there! Ask him how I came across it later – for now I think we need to get to business." He led Father away to the ship registration while I was left standing with Mother and a head full of questions.

xx

We waited close to half a standard hour before Father returned. He was relaxed and he declared,

"The ship is ours again!" he kissed Mother, who smiled in response. He then turned to me and said, "Tomorrow, I promise you, we shall fly out of the Talravin, just for your birthday!" All my questions deserted me and I grinned. We took our time to return to the hovel that we had called our house for so many years, and indeed, the place I had called my home all my life. It was time to say our final goodbyes.

As we entered the dwelling, something felt distinctly wrong. _I felt something was wrong_. I heard footsteps behind me. My parents stopped walking and pushed me behind them as they scanned their surroundings. The air seemed to hum with tension.

"Whoever you are, come out!" father demanded.

His demand was rewarded with a high pitched cackle. There were more footsteps and I peeked around my parents.

There, at the entrance of the house was a gigantic Transdoshan, flanked by four Rodians.

"Someone is trying to cheat Juba the Hutt I see" the Transdoshan, evidently the leader hissed in Basic.

"That's not true, Balther!" replied father in a cold tone, but I could hear his voice trembling.

"So you are calling Juba a liar, eh? On top of being a thief, you are a liar yourself Travis! I know you stole two hundred credits Travis, and I will have the pleasure of collecting your bounty for that myself!" he grinned, and the Rodians began to circle them. They hadn't noticed me yet.

"Your pretty wife can then be mine too! And I'll treat her, oh so _well_!" Balther mocked.

"How dare you?!" Father replied and Mother let out an outraged scream. I didn't know what was happening and I could see the Rodians lining up their blasters.

My parents pushed me further back, towards the broken window, while the bounty hunters advanced like predators that enjoyed playing with their prey. We were cornered, with only a short ledge to break a 2-storey fall.

In a desperate gamble, Mother turned around and whispered to me, "I'm sorry Bastie, be safe. I love you. We love you".

With that, she pushed me out of the window. I screamed as I fell, and I recall hearing a surprised squawk coming from above me. One of the attackers had been alerted of my presence, but it was too late to catch me.

There was the sound of several blasters being fired. I dimly recall hitting something as well.

Then all was darkness.


End file.
